


C'est La Vie, en Rose

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, F/M, Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-23
Updated: 2008-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When reality does not satisfy his needs, he pretends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C'est La Vie, en Rose

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for littlemurmurs and was inspired entirely by the French love song 'La Vie en Rose' by Edith Piaf. In the story I have included original the French lyrics. Thanks to Ginny, Manda and Julia for helping me put this story together.

It is an enviable evening at such a highbrow event, the witches and wizards of high society gallivanting together under the flickering lights of hundreds of enchanted candles. Large round tables covered in the finest silk surround the massive dance floor in the center of the room where people dance to intricate melodies radiating from the brightly lit stage.

Tonight is an anniversary. A celebration of death, the destruction of the Dark Lord. In seven short years a day of quiet reflection became one of mass frivolity. It sickens him. He can't comprehend how callous the wizarding world has become; how easy it is for them all to forget such horrific and brutal times. He shakes his head, wanting these dark thoughts to leave him. He's not here for that. It's a battle he'll fight another day. At the moment he has more pressing matters to attend to, although the formidable supply of firewhiskey could easily make him forget.

\---

Hermione Granger walks through the door in a matter-of-fact way, barely acknowledging the cheers that precede her, perhaps pretending they're not for her at all. She graciously accepts the offer of a young man who takes her coat. She joins a gentleman at a nearby table; he notes her preference for the more low-key spot in the room. Draco swallows the remainder of the amber liquid from his glass and feels it burn his throat. He's reminded of when that gentleman at her table was him.

\---

He does not remember rising from his seat or walking towards her but he's now suddenly standing by her, his hand before him. Recognition crosses her face immediately and is quickly replaced with surprise. He senses her hesitation. She glances at her companion and back to his offered hand. Since when does she need permission? He wonders where this other man came from, if he knows about him, knows of their past. They exchange words briefly and she finally acquiesces to his request for a dance. Yes, he reminds himself as she takes his offered hand, smirking as she stands. That's what we came for.

\---

The crowd stares as he leads her to the dance floor, whispering to one another behind the backs of their hands. A feeling of pride overwhelms him and he stands a little taller. He enjoys being noticed. He likes knowing he's become the center of attention in the wizarding world again.

They begin to sway back and forth in time to a melody that emanate from a piano on the stage. A lovely young lady standing near the pianist begins to sing. Her voice reaches into the vast hall and mesmerizes the crowd. It is no coincidence that she sings this song now, and Draco is pleased that all is working as he planned. Hermione smiles politely but her discomfort is evident in her eyes. She avoids his gaze and continues with the rhythm. He ignores this as he pulls her closer. He's not here for her comfort. She frowns and he wonders if he just said that out loud.

\---

He pretends. Where reality is not enough to satisfy his needs, he pretends, seeing things not how they are but how they should be.

She smiles and laughs as they dance, nodding when he whispers memories into her ear, reminding her of the happier moments from not long ago. The other guests smile and leave the dance floor for the two of them, watching their loving exchange, jealous witnesses of something so pure. The music plays, the words of the old French love song filling them both and taking on new meaning as the world around them seems to fade away.

 _  
Des yeux qui font baiser les miens,  
Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche,  
Voila le portrait sans retouche  
De l'homme auquel j'appartiens_

 _Quand il me prend dans ses bras  
Il me parle tout bas,  
Je vois la vie en rose._

 _Il me dit des mots d'amour,  
Des mots de tous les jours,  
Et ca me fait quelque chose. _

He feels her melt into his arms, her head resting against his shoulder, their bodies almost becoming one. It's as though they never parted, the years of separation and indifference simply a pause and not an end. His heart swells. This is the moment he's been planning for, and he cannot ask for more. The music ends gradually and they come to a slow stop. A tear rolls down her cheek and he wipes it away. It's over now, they have forever.

\---

They grab him by the arms and unceremoniously toss him out onto the sidewalk, throwing his jacket out behind him.

"Lousy drunk," one of them mutters before slamming the door. Draco lies on the sidewalk, looking up at the dark sky sprinkled with stars. Emotions are swirling inside of him but his mind is too foggy to recognize them clearly. Instead he tries to focus on the cold cement below him and the drizzling rain falling from above. Minutes pass, possibly hours. He isn't sure anymore. He has no concept of himself.

Eventually there is a rather strange moment of clarity where he can make out the doorway from where he came, a strong yellow light shining through it, partially obstructed by a shadow. He blinks. A figure is silhouetted there, the shape of a woman. The bright light forms a halo around her. A part of him knows who it is, but the rest of him is slow in catching up. Breathing suddenly takes much more effort than usual and the words he wants to speak never come to him. His head throbs.

Defeated, he rests his head against the pavement, watching her skirt flutter as she turns around. He feels his heart burning in his chest and he does the only thing he knows how; he pretends. He closes his eyes and a familiar song plays in his head, drowning out the sound of her footsteps as she leaves him in the cold.

 _Et des que je l'apercois  
Alors je sens en moi  
Mon coeur qui bat_

 _Des nuits d'amour a ne plus en finir  
Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place  
Des enuis des chagrins, des phases  
Heureux, heureux a en mourir._

fin

  
English Translation of the lyrics [here.](http://www.useless-knowledge.com/1234/06apr/article064.html)


End file.
